


Uncommon afflictions, unexpected allies

by CalciferCai (orphan_account)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint whump, Developing Relationship, Frosthawk - Freeform, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, mind healing, nonconsensual magic use, post Thor 2 Asgard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/CalciferCai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's six months after the London incident and Loki's death that Clint takes off. It's a vacation to stop Thor from worrying about him, from making him think he's going to snap like Erik Selvig did.<br/>But things go wrong and sometimes relaxation is all that's needed to let infection start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He starts off hating Loki. Well, maybe hate is a little too strong of a word, since the feeling does not match what he feels for his father and his old trainer. But to be captured within the constraints of his own mind and watch as his body destroys those you once worked with, watch as everything he's built up crumbles away under the power of an otherworldly being that controls him now, well, it doesn't please him at all.

It's six months after the London incidents that he decides to take a break. His mind isn't like Selvig's. The Norse god of mischief does not haunt him, does not worsen his grasp on the world. He still never misses when he takes aim, he still can sneak up on anyone and everyone, and he can still control himself. He has nightmares, yes, but considering how he's lived, he figures they're par for the course.

But he sees the concern in Thor's eyes, the cautionary way he diverts conversations away from Asgard when he sees the archer in the room. Clint observes and accepts it, knowing that the Thunderer was only worried.

So Clint takes off. He does it the right way - files for time off through S.H.I.E.L.D., tells all of his teammates how to contact him if need be, packs some clothes with his bow and arrows and goes off in his Dodge Charger.

He explores the United States, making his way through the mostly forgotten parts of the country, impressing people with his skills, stopping small crimes, and generally maintaining a low profile. The archer wonders if he and his brother could have shared this lifestyle if things had gone differently.

He tries not to dwell on the past.

Nightmares start coming more frequently. He attacks the furniture of the motels he stays in, racking up bills in property damage that are definitely going to annoy S.H.I.E.L.D. He never remembers what he's dreaming of, but he often wakes up in a cold sweat, body aching from hitting walls, vases, and dressers.

He doesn't want to go back, not like this, not when he's becoming the one thing that he's trying to prove he's not. And so, he ditches his phone, goes MIA, and hopes the world doesn't need him.

It's all done in the haze of panic.

~-~

He wakes up in his car in literally the middle of a forest, with no recollection of driving there. _How long has it been since I left?_ He thinks as he stretches, joints cracking. He tries to remember, but his brain fails him.

The wind rustles through the trees serenely. A part of him wants to stay. Most of him is afraid of what he's missed. His stomach growls.

"Great. Guess I should head on back." Thankfully the car starts with very little trouble.

He drives back the way he thinks he came, and returns to the nearest town (if it can even be called that).

Glares are shot at him through windows and he assumes his blackout caused him to do some damage here. "Gonna be a long way back." Clint sighs, hoping at least some decent person will take pity on him and show him the way back to New York.

~-~

**Asgard**

Although repairs have been made, the damage done by Malektih and Thor is still tremendous. The battle is still so fresh in the minds of the Aesir, their losses still weighing heavily on their hearts. The All-father disappears frequently, the people blaming it on the loss of Loki and Frigga, and Thor's rejection of the throne.

"Thor. It is good to see you again." Heimdall greets the prince. As per custom, the gates between the realms was one of the first things restored, allowing Heimdall and Thor to return to their positions as guardians of Asgard.

"As it is to see you again, Heimdall. I wish I was here just to enjoy your company, but -"

"But you need me to find someone." Heimdall smiles as Thor bows his head. "It is fine, Thor. Tell me who it is."

"Thank you, friend. The Eye of the Hawk, Clint Barton of Midgard has been missing. It's been over a month since he was due back. There are no traces of him to be found, as he wished to be alone in the first place."

"He is the friend that Loki commanded when he was on Midgard, correct?"

"One of them, yes. I wish to bring him back to our fellow friends, and find out what happened."

Heimdall's impassive face turns to a frown. "I am afraid that his condition does not seem to be well."

"How do you mean?"

"His mind is fractured. He appears to be suffering."

"Tell me where he is."

-~-

**Earth**

He can't think straight. He can't see right. The road waves in his vision, one becoming two overlapped. He nearly drives off the damn road and into a tree as his vision blurs more.  Suddenly the car isn't moving and he aches all over.

"...rton?" He hears a familiar voice, distantly to his left. "Barton, can you...." He frowns and turns towards it.

"Thor." He mumbles. "You come to rescue me?" He grins crookedly before everything goes dark.

-~-

When he awakens, there's screams and gold and sweet air. It takes a moment for him to register that he's the one screaming. It takes him a few moments longer to stop.

The air tastes of ambrosia and honey and the sea, and while it sounds bad to his mind, it smells like the most beautiful combination ever.

He cranes his neck (and winces because of it) to look around the ornate room. Everything is gold and he wonders if Tony would kiss the walls if he was here.

 _We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto._ Clint thinks, as he looks around.

"Ah. You're awake. Thank you for stopping your wretched screaming." His whole body tenses at the voice, as he slowly turns his head to its origin. The air sours.

"You're dead." He growls at Loki. His hair is longer and his skin healthier, but Clint would recognize those eyes anywhere.

"And you're rude." Loki shrugs and grins as he strides to the bed Clint is in. "And now that we're done with our hellos, let me fix you."

"No way in hell." Clint musters all his effort to get up and punch the trickster. He falls as soon as he stands, a gasp of pain and a wave of dizziness coming over him.

"Now, now, Agent Barton." Loki tsks as he picks him up and lays him back down on the bed. "You've been in a fight with a tree and it won, despite your car's best efforts. You should rest." Clint spits at him, the only way he feels able to rebel. "You need to work on your manners."

"Where's Thor?"

"Midgard; informing your friends and higher-ups about your location and your mental break. Or do you not remember that either?"

Clint shrugs and looks away. His mouth is a firm line. _Thor would never knowingly leave him with Loki, which means there's something going on here._ The archer quickly deduces. _Best not to say anything._

"Agent Barton, are you ignoring me?" He refuses to answer, icy arrows being shot at the gorgeous wall. "Very well." Loki sighs. "You do realize that I am helping you voluntarily of my own will?” Silence. "Do you want to know why?" Desperately, since it makes no sense. "Because you were once mine." Clint steels his jaw, his heart pumping faster as adrenaline courses through him. "You were the best out of the lot. The only one I viewed as truly valuable and worth keeping after I took over your world."

"You're lying."

"Ah!, it speaks." Loki grins ruefully at the human. "And where is your proof? How can you tell when a trickster is lying and when he tells the truth?"

"Easy." Clint turns back to him, his eyes as hard as before. "You never believe he is telling the truth."

"Ah, I believe it has more to do with what I told your woman. About how I'd make you kill her than kill you after letting you see. Is that you supposed proof?"

"Nope. Though it's good evidence isn't it? And Natasha isn't my 'woman'."

"You wish it so, though. I have peeked into your mind, Barton. I know how you think."

Clint goes on disbelieving him. Upping the scale, he closes his eyes. "Don't be here when I wake. Your face takes away from the room."

"And yours simply adds to it." Loki remarks dryly as Clint slowly starts to sleep.

As the human falls asleep, Loki whispers to him, "I do not always lie, my dear human." Clint can't tell if Loki's trying to prove he means no harm or if he's being played. Either way, he still doesn't trust or like Loki and resolves to be ornery as he can.

The last thing he's aware of is a cool hand on his forehead and a weird sense of relaxation sweeping through him.

-~-

He doesn't wake up screaming. The nightmares were still there, but their intensity had fallen, allowing the archer to actually feel a bit rested when he wakes up. His eyes still closed, he grumbles as he realizes that he's no longer on the soft, luxurious bed of before. The ground is cold against his skin, making the sweat from his sleep even chillier. The air caresses him, making him shiver as it blows on his sweat. He's aware that he's naked, and curls into a ball with a groan. He sleeps more.

Someone prods him awake and he automatically grabs and snaps their wrist in retaliation.

Loki hisses. "That hurt." Then there is pain in his side. A kick to the ribs? Probably. Clint laughs.

"This how you wake up everyone in Asgard?" He asks, his eyes still shut.

"Only those that need to be awakened before they roll off the balcony." Clint's eyes snap open and he groans at the bright sunlight. He is outside though, and when he turns his head, he can see the room he'd been in beyond Loki's legs. "Perhaps next time I will just let you roll off. It'll spare me some pain and the trouble of restoring your mind."

Once again aware of how naked he is, the human does his best to protect his privates, which is met by a small snort from Loki.

"Come now, Agent Barton, I've been through your entire mind and you're afraid of me seeing your body? I care more about your skills than your physical attributes." There's a twinkle in his eyes.

"Are you seriously hitting on me?" It's incredulous, the way that Loki cares not about everything that happened between them. That he dismisses it in favor of, of all things, flirting with the man that he was kind of holding captive.

"No no no, of course, Agent Barton." Lies. And obvious ones at that. _He's playing with your mind._ "Now, can you stand? Or do I need to get some assistance for you?" The trickster asks mockingly. Clint glares at him and slowly stands, his hands still covering his front. "Ah, good. Much better than three days ago. Now, follow me."

"Wait, what? Three days ago? Are you saying I've been asleep for three days?" Shit. Whatever had happened to him had been bad.

"Yes, Agent Barton." There's a bored sigh in Loki's voice. "Now if you come back to bed, I will explain why to you."

He unsteadily steps forward. Teetering, Clint slowly makes his way back into the room.

"Let me hel-"

"No."

"It would make this all a lot quicker and easier on you."

"Dun care." Clint grumbled as he took a few more unsteady steps. "I'm gonna do it myself."

"Fine. If you fall though, do not expect me to catch you."

"Whatever, your Highness." He makes it to the bed and slowly eases into it.

"Are you done with your show of machismo, Agent Barton?" Loki asks, bored. Despite his threat to not help, he had been next to Clint every step of the way. Clint nods his answer and Loki claps his hands together. "Good. Now let's discuss what's being going on with you."

Clint snorts and Loki raises an eyebrow. "You sound just like a psychologist. You gonna look inside my head some more?"

"No because I presume parts of it will be empty now. Oh don't give me that look; your mind is fracturing. It's deteriorating most likely caused by possession. Thor told me all about how you've been acting. He also told me about that professor I'd possessed during my time on Midgard. As we both know, the scepter affected him poorly afterwards. I had thought that perhaps you would be immune to the after effects, but it appears that it just needed time to fester inside you and prey on your hidden weaknesses.

I believe that there is a way to restore you to your usual charming self, but I will need to use magic on you to -"

"No magic."

"Excuse me?"

"No magic." Clint shrugged. "It's that simple. Last time I encountered magic, it was you using me. Do you really think I'm going to let you use magic on me again?"

"You will, Agent Barton, or you can live out your days haunted by this more so than you are haunted by everything you've done in your life." Loki's tone is dark, his voice insidious, and eyes catlike as he leans forward. Clint doesn't flinch or look away. "Your team will see it first hand for themselves as your mind destroys itself and your body reacts abnormally to your lifestyle. You could walk off that nice, ledge-less Helicarrier in a haze and die before anyone is aware of what happened to you. Your psyche could snap and cause you to harm innocent people. And we both know how well you react to that." He pauses, standing back again, regaining his physician like stance. "Now, are you certain you do not want magic?"

"I'm not changing my mind, Loki. I don't trust you."

"Well it's glad that I didn't really plan on letting you have a choice." The Jotunn moves quickly and hold down Clint's limbs with magic bonds. "Now, I am doing this for your own good. Relax or this is going to feel far worse than anything you've experienced, and I know what you've been through, Agent Barton."

"Fuck you." It's his only option of rebellion left aside from steeling his mind. He tries to thrash as a hand comes down over his eyes.

"We can get to that later if you'd like." Loki murmurs. "Now hush, I need to concentrate."

And so Clint babbles the entire time. He tells Loki how much he hates him, how when he'd heard of Loki's death, he had rejoiced and celebrated by himself. He tells Loki of all the ways he plans to hurt him when they recapture him and finally he screams when he feels electric energy crawling through his mind. He screams louder as it digs into him, causing memories, both pleasant and horrid to flash before his eyes. "Ah." He hears Loki and he cannot scream anymore. The pain hasn't stopped but his voice is gone, so all he can do is try to breathe in his agony. The energy removes something from him, dragging it along out of him. When it leaves completely, he whimpers and sags in his bonds. In Loki's had a shard of bright familiar blue has appeared.

"It seems as though the scepter tried to remain in you. It liked you so much that it burrowed into your psyche." With a wave of his other hand, Clint's released and allowed to relax into the comfortable bed. "That was the hardest part, Agent Barton. Rest now. I will have food and a bath ready for when you awaken next." With a few gasps, Clint weakly nods and passes out again.

When he next wakes up, he's still in the bed. There's clothes placed on a chair near the bed and a note rests on top of them. He throws it and pulls the chair to him, dressing under the blankets before cautiously standing. He feels loads better; his head has a dull throb but his body is better, recovered from its previous pain.

He decides to escape. He knows he isn't in a prison, or even a medical area. The room is presumably one of the guest rooms in the castle, meaning he doesn't need to worry about the guards if he leaves through the door. But he knows that Loki would come and find him if he left that way. It'd be too easy to be tracked if he left like that. So he goes out to the balcony.

The view is breathtaking. The city is far away and only water is below him, but the currents are harsh and rapid, and the drop is at least ten stories high. There are no places for him to grab and climb on the outer walls of the luminous building.

In sum, he's trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another multi-chapter frosthawk fic. I'd like to dedicate this to darkfromday.tumblr.com for inspiring me to write. Plenty of Clint whumpage is planned for this one, since our favorite little archer has a lot of issues.  
> Please leave comments as they're very helpful to me!  
> I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very mild references to an abusive childhood in this chapter, along with a not so mild reference to panic attacks.

Clint decides to sit on the ledge, letting his legs dangle off the side as he stares down at the water below him. He used to do this back in New York at the Avengers Tower, and while everyone was concerned that he was thinking about slipping and falling off, he was too busy focusing on life moving. He would watch the civilians come and go as they walked by the tower, most of them not giving it a second glance. Every once in a while, he swore he'd see someone stop and look up. He often wondered what their expression was. Was it gratitude for all they had done? Was it anger that they had failed to save that person's loved ones? Was it impassivity?

On Asgard, it is different. There's obviously no people down in the water for him to see, so he wonders about the fauna of the world. If the fish are as impressive as the Bilgesnipe that Thor told the team about or if they're similar to how fish are on Earth.

He wants to find out first handedly.

His legs still and just drape over the side. The air is no longer sweet but stale. The ocean beckons to him, its rolling waves hitting the side of the castle and sounding like its calling his name. The smell of salt water drafts up to him, causing his mouth to water. His hands tense around the ledge and he's ready to push off, ready to see what lies beneath the wav-

Hands grab his arms and roughly yank him back. He's startled out of his thoughts as his view of the ocean is replaced by his legs and golden flooring. There's an annoyed voice behind him and he struggles, trying to get free. The hands instantly move to his back and bend him in half. With his chest and face pressed to his legs, Clint finally realizes that his heart is racing and that it's probably Loki holding him down.

"Do you think you could survive?" Loki's voice is stern and condescending, as if he's talking to a child. "Or did you think of suicide as a release from here?"

"No." The archer's answer is muffled against his legs. He starts to slow his heart, and refocuses his mind.

"Which one?"

"Neither." Loki lets him go and watches him. Clint knows it's a test to see if he'll go back to outside and jump. He doesn't. He goes and sits on the bed. "I'm fine."

"Do not try to lie to me, human." It's a quick dismissal as Loki looks him over more. "Perhaps there are more shards trapped in your mind. Perhaps it's the aftereffects of the one I removed. In time, Loki will find out." He shrugs, as if this is of no consequence.

"Why are you helping me? Last time we were near each other, we were trying to kill each other. I doubt the feeling’s changed for you since it hasn't for me at all." Clint looks over at Loki's completely disinterested face. The human doesn't understand why he's asking for the truth as if he actually expects the God of Lies to give it to him.

Loki snorts. "I will not be fooled into giving myself away, mortal. The reasons why are not of import to you. Simply be thankful that you can be cured of your affliction and will live even when in the house of your enemy."

"I just want to understand, that's all." Clint shrugs and mutters as he reclines back on the bed some more. "You promised food and a bath, by the way. Or were those lies too?" He wants to see how patient Loki will be with him. Will the Trickster strike him? Or can Clint's words be his way of rebelling against him? It's a risky thing to test, but it wouldn't be the first time he's been harmed for speaking openly.

"You shall have them both." With a snap of thin pale fingers, a small tray appears on the bed, with a plate of warmed meat, strange fruits, and what appears to be a salad. A glass of ice water sits next to the plate; condensation already starting to form on the outside. By the wall in front of Clint, a golden bathtub appears.

"Thanks." The marksman can smell the meat, rich with herbs and a buttery glaze. The meat itself looked vaguely like goat, though given the stories of the land that Thor had told them, it was probably that of a geitannskarpe. Unsure what to eat first (and with a stomach starting to protest that he was just staring instead of ingesting), he grabs one of the fruits (it looked like a red pear), bites in and –

\- immediately spits it back out. "Pleah, bleh..." Loki watches the human, condescending and laughter flickering through his eyes as a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"I am sorry, I forgot that you don't know how to eat Asgardian food," The smile refuses to fade as Clint glares at him while washing down the disgusting leather taste from his mouth with the cool, neutral water. "Here, let me peel that for you."

Clint shakes his head. "No thanks, your majesty." He sighs, putting the glass back down on the tray and rubbing the water droplets from the glass into his hand. "I'll stick with the meat; that can't be too different."

Loki shrugs, and grabs something else from the fruit tray ( _Looks like dragon fruit,_ Clint thinks) and bites into it, a pinkish juice oozing out of it. "Suit yourself."

The meat is sweet and softer than any animal Clint had partaken of on Earth. He chews it slowly and delicately, savoring the flavor and texture and memorizing it before swallowing. “It’s really good.” He says quietly before cutting off another piece and bringing it to his mouth.

“Only the best for the guests of the King.” Loki hums as he finishes devouring the fruit, his tongue and teeth stained with blood of the fruit.

 _So he’s the king? But that was promised to Thor. And Thor thinks Loki’s dead, or he did last time we actually talked._ Clint maintains a look of neutrality as he chews quicker this time, doing his best for all intents and purposes to make it look like he’s simply enjoying the food. _This isn’t something Odin would do without telling Thor. Something must have happened. Thor doesn’t know Loki’s alive and playing king. But that would mean that Odin’s out of the picture. Loki’s pretending to be Odin._ He swallows as he reaches his theory. “Prisoner’s more like it.” He grumbles. _Gotta tell Thor somehow. Loki’s obviously up to something bad and I don’t want to be around when he makes his move._ He can’t repress a twitch as toxic memories flood through him, weighing him down. Loki glances at him.

“What is it, little Hawk?” His eyes are sharp, probing into Clint without the spear, without any effort whatsoever. It’s different from when he was unmade. There’s no glee in Loki’s eyes this time, but oddly enough that doesn’t do anything to absolve Clint’s anxiety. The nickname itself digs into his mind as well, reminding him of how small he is – how small he _was_ when Loki was in control. There is no pretended respect in ‘little Hawk’ as there is in ‘Agent Barton’; the nickname serves only as a reminder of all that he had once lost and how he was still too messed up to piece himself together again.

The room feels too large and small at the same time. Loki’s too close to him, but if he tried to get to a corner of the room, he’d never reach it. He remembers this feeling and what it carries with it are reminders of a time long before Loki, but still a time of being little and never escaping, and everything being his fault.

 _Oh._ Clint thinks as his hands tremble for the first time in over five years. _I’m having a panic attack._

Loki reaches over to touch the human’s shoulder, picking up on the speeding heartbeat and dulled eyes. Clint swats him away and appears to calmly stand up. Loki follows suit, just in case the Hawk tries to fly with clipped wings. But Clint only moves the tray of food off the bed. Some water spills and grapes tumble, and Clint mumbles to himself that he’s messed up again. Loki watches as the archer strips out of all of his clothing, tossing each piece haphazardly to the floor. All previous reservations regarding Loki seeing him seem to have vanished; in fact, it seems as though Clint doesn’t even realize that Loki’s still there. The entire process of getting up, cleaning the bed and stripping takes about a minute and a half, surprising Loki. Clint’s breathing is returning to normal, very slowly, and Loki can still hear the anxiously pounding heart of the mortal as he slips back into the bed, burrowing into the blankets and sheets.

Clint’s cocooning himself from the world; the only way that he’d really learned to deal with the nightmares and memories, since seeking the comfort of others was never an option.

Loki thinks that perhaps the archer was already on his way to losing control long before they had ever met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't know, dragon fruit looks very much like a heart.


End file.
